


Of Formal Attires and Contrast

by isuilde



Category: Seiyuu Fandom
Genre: F/M, Kyou Kara Maou! cast, RPS - Freeform, SaiGAR and dresses, afureko party of some sort, seiyuu idiocy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 23:03:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isuilde/pseuds/isuilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Motoko-chan said they probably don’t see me as a girl anymore, so it doesn’t make any difference.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Formal Attires and Contrast

**Author's Note:**

> This does not happen in reality, and it probably will never be,

He shrugs, once.  
  
It feels somewhat uncomfortable to wear a formal suit—it has been a while since he attended any formal dinner party, and the last award night he’d attended was almost a year ago. The fabric of his suit itches against his skin, and for some reason Sakurai feels a bit suffocated. Which is why he decides not to go inside the elegantly decorated small restaurant the producers had rented for the formal dinner party, and instead waits outside for the other seiyuus to arrive.  
  
“You’re not going inside?”  
  
He turns around and finds Konishi standing just a bit off to his side. Giving him his usual dorky grin, Sakurai shrugs again. “There aren’t that many people yet. Only some of the staff, the producers and—I think I saw Takabayashi-sensei earlier.”  
  
Konishi hums. “Well, people will come shortly. It’s supposed to be the formal closing party after all.” He raises his arm, showing Sakurai his white crisp suit. “I definitely look better than you do, though.”  
  
Sakurai laughs. “In your dreams, Konishi-san. You sound like a teenager waiting for his date.”  
  
“Whatever,” Konishi’s grin widens as he put his hands on his hips in a victorious gesture. “I am waiting for someone.”  
  
That throws Sakurai off. He blinks—once, twice—and watches Konishi grin even wider, not knowing whether he has to gape or snort in incredulity. He opts on the second at last, indignantly snorting at Konishi as he tried to keep his amused laughter down. “Yeah, right. Like I would believe that.”  
  
“Oh, you should,” Konishi says, still grinning. “You’d be surprised at how pretty she is.”  
  
Just as Sakurai opens his mouth to retort back, an unfamiliar, shiny black sedan slowly halts right in front of the restaurant’s entrance. Konishi makes an excited sound at the back of his throat, looking as if he’s about to explode from his eagerness. He nudges Sakurai enthusiastically, making him wince as his elbow hit the poor younger seiyuu’s ribs harder than intended. Sakurai hisses, quickly distancing himself from Konishi and glares. “What?”  
  
“There, look!”  
  
The car’s back door slowly opens, and a familiar dark-haired figure came out—Morikawa. Sakurai raises an eyebrow, suddenly finding himself wondering if Konishi has been cated in too many BL Drama CDs (although he’s quite sure that he’s starred in more BL CDs than Konishi has, but that isn’t the problem). “You want me to… look at Morikawa-san?”  
  
“Pffft, Yuu-chan you’re so silly,” the statement drips of sarcasm as Konishi rolls his eyes. “Just look!”  
  
Turning his eyes back towards Morikawa’s figure, Sakurai sees him moves a little to the side, allowing the person inside the car to come out. The first thing he sees is a pair of high-heeled feet, visible only slightly as the edge of a flowing soft-brown dress brushes them. The owner of said feet is still hidden from sight, blocked by the car’s door for several moments as if reluctant to stand up. Sakurai blinks as Morikawa laughs in amusement and bends slightly in order to offer his hand like a Prince would to his Princess.  
  
Said  _Princess’_  hand hovers above Morikawa’s offered hand for half a minute, before grasping them. Then Morikawa steps back, pulling the  _Princess_  to stand up.  
  
Sakurai’s breath hitches.  
  
The dress is way more modest than the ones he usually sees other female seiyuus wear to formal events—the sleeves fall elegantly down her arms the way a kimono would, leaving just the right amount of wrist peeking out teasingly, while the dress falls straight down to her ankles, snuggling her body just enough to softly shows the curves of her hips. Dark, shoulder-length hair touches the junction between her shoulders and neck, and a small black hairpin keeps her bangs off her eyes. No other accessories—no jewelries, no laces or embroidery adorning her dress—all in all, she looks like the epitome of simplicity as she awkwardly stands there, gripping Morikawa’s hand like a lifeline with the faintest shade of red spreading on her cheeks.  
  
Konishi whistles softly. “Alright—not what I expected, but she still looks fabulous, doesn’t she?”  
  
Sakurai splutters, unable to think up an appropriate response. Konishi laughs openly at him, noticing how his eyes are glued to the suddenly-unfamiliar-figure-of-a-very-familiar-person, and slaps his shoulder. “Go and get your date, Sakurai-kun.”  
  
“That’s—I— _what?!_ ”  
  
“Isn’t Oniichan very nice to get you a date, Yuu-chan?”  
  
“Konishi-san!” he nearly flails, but stops as he realizes Morikawa is bringing her towards them. For a moment, Sakurai lets his eyes take in the entire figure of the older female seiyuu—noting how awkward she’s walking in those heels, and how her hand that grips Morikawa’s has turn white, indicating how hard the grip is. Morikawa doesn’t seem to mind, though. Instead, he looks satisfied when his eyes find Konishi and Sakurai, smiling enigmatically.  
  
“The Princess has arrived,” he jokes, drawing a laugh from Konishi, a glare from said  _Princess_ , and a gape from Sakurai. “Well then, Maou-Heika, please take a good care of my—brother. I mean, sister—for tonight.”  
  
“You,” the  _Princess_  hisses hotly. “All of you are in this, aren’t you?”  
  
“Think of it as a present,” Konishi says breezily, still grinning. “You look very charming, Princess Saiga.”  
  
Saiga’s eyes narrows as Sakurai chokes.  
  
Morikawa laughs, gently prying Saiga’s grip off his hand and clasp a hand on her shoulder. “It’s only one night, Saiga-san. There’s no harm done. You know, a girl has to act like a girl sometimes. Indulge yourself.”  
  
“Morikawa-san, this is ridiculous!” she protests.  
  
“You just need a self-confidence boost,” Konishi replies knowingly. “And who better to give it than our own Maou?”  
  
“Have fun, then,” Morikawa chuckles, and with that, the two older seiyuus quickly make their way inside the restaurant.  
  
Saiga makes a ‘tsk’ noise, apparently beyond annoyed. Sakurai can’t possibly understand why, though. She looks—in his opinion—dashing. The simple dress complements her androgynous look, and even though the high heels might be a little bit overboard, he isn’t going to complain. He finds himself taking in Saiga’s appearance fully once again, as if not believing that the person standing before him is the one who voices Wolfram—who’s been acting all boyish even though her age passes thirty, who slaps his back numerous times, who snorts at his mistakes and bullies him a lot. The woman before him is like a complete stranger—and yet excitingly familiar.  
  
“You can laugh, Sakurai-kun.” She sounds like she’s giving up. Sakurai raises his eyebrows, a blank look on his face before understanding dawns on him. He shakes his head quickly, lets a smile grace his features, and Saiga gives him an amused look.  
  
“It doesn’t suit me, huh?”  
  
“It’s simple,” he replies, feeling a telltale of a grin starts on his lips. “How did they manage to get you into this? I would’ve thought you’d throw a fit, or something. Saiga-san seems to be weaker nowadays.”  
  
“Shut up.” Saiga laughs gently, her alto voice rises and she sounds like another girl, Sakurai thinks. “Motoko-chan, Minami-san and Masako-san had me cornered. I swear it was the most frightening moment in my life—if it’s you, you wouldn’t even survive, Sakurai-kun!” She shrugs, her gestures still as boyish as ever. “Anyway. They said if I don’t stop trying to escape, they’re going to let Morikawa-san, Miyata-san and Takeda-san forces me into it. That shut me up.”  
  
Sakurai’s eyes widens in astonishment. “What—are you serious? No way, they wouldn’t dare! It’d be like a sexual harassment, or something.”  
  
“Motoko-chan said they probably don’t see me as a girl anymore, so it doesn’t make any difference.” Saiga snorts, and Sakurai just has to laugh. His dorky grin is back in place, a giddy sensation coils in his stomach that makes him just a tad bit more relaxed. Saiga-san is still Saiga-san after all, he thinks, highly amused. The initial awkwardness is suddenly gone, replaced by an easy familiarity that’s always belonged to them. Somewhat relieved, Sakurai offers his upper arm then. “Well, shall we go inside?”  
  
“I can walk,” Saiga deadpans—in a way that’s too Wolfram-ish to be ignored. Sakurai raises an eyebrow knowingly, the way he knows it annoys Saiga just as much as the dress does. Saiga throws her hands up in the air, seemingly resigning herself to whatever fate would befall her tonight, before linking her arms with Sakurai’s.  
  
“You know,” Sakurai starts in his usual dorky tone as they begin to walk. “Your fans would be crazy if they see you now. It’ll be like ‘Ooooh, Saiga-san! Beautiful! Saiga-san!’ all over again.”  
  
Saiga gives him an annoyed glare, hiding amusement before the glimmer of her dark irises. “You shut up.”  
  
“And then it’ll be ‘Saiga-san kawaii!’ and not ‘kakkoii!’ anymore.”  
  
“Seriously Sakurai-kun, shut up.”  
  
Sakurai lets a soft smile replace his dorky grin, and looks staright into Saiga’s dark eyes. “You do look beautiful though, Saiga-san.”  
  
He watched with fascination as a darker shade of red spreads on Saiga’s face, all the way to her ears. Then a hand smacks the back of his head, just a tad bit harder than it should be, and he yelps. Saiga turns her face away, and Sakurai just knows she’s flustered. “Serve you right, dork.”  
  
He grins, happy with every awkward step they take as Saiga grips his arm harder in order to balance herself in those heels. Faces turns toward them as they walk into the restaurant; surprised murmurs and excited exclamations mix into incoherent noises, but Sakurai doesn’t really care.  
  
“Ah,” he says, turning back to Saiga. “But you could do with longer hair though, Saiga-san.”  
  
“…shut up.” Another smack on the back of his head, but Saiga doesn’t let go of his arm.  
  
They stay side-by-side as the party goes on.  
  
Two days later, Sakurai pouts when Saiga meets him for ice cream—all T-shirt and jeans and boyish gestures and rogue grins, her hair cut short like a teenage boy’s.  
  


**\-----o0ofinitoo0o-----**

**Author's Note:**

> Facts:  
> 1\. All the seiyuus mentioned are cast of Kyou Kara Maou! anime. Morikawa is Conrad’s, Konishi is Shouri’s, Motoko, Minami and Masako are Greta, Anissina and Cecilie’s respectively, and Miyata and Takeda are MuraKen and Yozak’s.  
> 2\. On the last event of KKM to celebrate the end of season 3, Saiga’s hair is short. Before that, her hair is shoulder-length.  
> 3\. Sakurai once teased Saiga about how her fans are all over her and said ‘Ooooh, Saiga-san! Beautiful! Saiga-san!’. Saiga literally glares at him. :3  
> 4\. I want them to get married soon. >___


End file.
